


Specter

by thegalacticpope



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Not Happy, Violence against Children, i was asked for angst, my poor baby, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:22:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6193075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegalacticpope/pseuds/thegalacticpope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five year old Damian is kidnapped while Dick and Jason were supposed to be watching him, and the consequences are severe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken Bird

**Author's Note:**

> @graysonslittlebird asked: Can I have something with smol Damian? Super angsty? Well, I don't know what you were looking for exactly, but this definitely falls in the category of angst.

"I'm going to be Robin!"

Dick smiled at his littlest brother, with a fleece blanket tied around his neck like Robin's cape. Damian was jumping from couch to couch, leaping from chair to the pillows scattered over the floor.

"You'll be one heck of a Robin, kid," Dick laughed, snatching Damian mid-leap. Even if the thought of the five year-old aspiring to be a part of the most dangerous part of their lives curdled his stomach, Dick knew from experience that this was not a battle to be fought now.

"I'm gonna be even better than Jason," Damian giggled at Dick tickled his ribs.

"What now?" Jason walked into the living room, hopped over the back of the couch, and joined Dick in his assault on their brother. "Did I hear something about being better than me?"

"I will be. When I'm Robin," Damian told him.

Jason shot Dick a look, liking the idea of Damian being Robin as much as he liked Killer Croc. Dick shook his head, telling him to drop it.

"Sure thing, squirt," Jason said instead, ruffling Damian's hair. "One day."

They played Batman and Robin, with Damian starring as Batman (they totally did not cut holes in one of Bruce's ties to make a mask for Damian, no way), Dick as his Robin, and Jason as the villain, which he made up. The Pillow Man was notorious for stealing all the stuffed animals in Gotham, whacking Batman with a pillow, and kidnapping Robin. When Dick was rescued, the hostages safely returned to Damian's bed, and Jason sufficiently beat up with a pillow of his own, Damian was finally satisfied. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, reaching up his arms for Jason to pick him up.

"Okay, Batman. Gotham is saved. It's time for bed." Jason said, not able to resist cuddling the sleepy child in his arms.

"Batman doesn't sleep," Damian argued, but the effect was ruined by another sleepy yawn.

"You're right," Dick said seriously, returning from the kitchen, where Alfred had prepared a glass of warm milk and honey. "But he takes power naps. Let's tuck you in."

Jason passed Damian to Dick, who sipped his milk eagerly. It was hard to admit, but he was a little jealous of the easy way Damian listened to Dick's requests, brushing his teeth and washing his face with a compliance that Jason would have to plead and bargain for. But when they settled him in his bed, and pulled the covers up to his chin, his blue eyes drifted to Jason for reassurance.

"When will Dad be home?" The voice was muffled from beneath the blankets.

Jason settled on the bed and leaned forward to kiss Damian on the forehead, ignoring the way Dick grinned knowingly from the corner of his eye. "Dad's on an important mission with the Justice League. He'll be home soon."

"He'll be okay, right?"

"Of course. He's Batman. And Superman is with him," Jason assured.

Damian scoffed. "Dad can beat Superman anytime he wants."

"That's right, kiddo," Dick chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Damian smiled, and curled into his stuffed animals, settling in for the night.

Jason and Dick made their way quietly from the room, and Dick left the door cracked so the light from the hallway kept Damian's room from being too dark. They made their way back to the living room, and Jason flopped on the couch while Dick tidied the mess from their pre-bedtime games.

"Who knew babysitting the squirt could be so much fun," Jason said. "And I want it on the record that we would have been fine without you. You didn't have to come, too. _I_ don't need babysitting."

Dick snorted at that. "Any opportunity to spoil my little brothers is an opportunity that shouldn’t be wasted. Besides, Alfred isn't feeling that well. We can't have you two running him into the ground."

Jason grumbled to hide the warm feeling in his heart and the flush on his cheeks. He still wasn't used to Dick being his older brother. He wasn’t sure he'd ever get used to it. Taking care of Damian seemed like second nature to Jason, but being taken care of was something else entirely, and wasn't sure it would ever be familiar.

The living room was clean too soon, so they ended up slumped together watching a terrible horror movie that was so fake it hurt Jason's eyes.

"Y'know…" Jason said, working to sound nonchalant. "If we went on patrol for a few hours, Dad would never know."

Dick sighed and rubbed his face. "You know the rules. No patrol when Bruce is out of town. Especially when he's off planet."

"Come on," Jason whined. "Damian and Alfred are sleeping. They'll never even know we were gone."

Dick arched an eyebrow at him. "You really believe that?"

"Okay, well Alfred won't say anything. It's just a little exercise. I'm going stir crazy."

Dick groaned, scrubbing his face. "Oh, alright. Let’s go. Suit up."

* * *

 

"Good job tonight, Robin. Nice take down, if a bit showy."

Robin snorted. "I don't do showy. I do brutal."

"Whatever you say, little bird," Nightwing teased. "It's about time to be heading home. It's getting late. Early. Whatever."

Before Jason could agree, the telltale beep of their comms had their stomachs sinking. It was the Manor. Which meant Alfred knew they were gone.

"Let me do the talking," Nightwing said, before answering. "Agent 1, this is Nightwing and Robin. We are safe and on our way home. No need to alert the Bat--"

"Nightwing, this is Agent 1," Alfred cut him off. He sounded ill. "Code Specter. I repeat Code Specter. They came and they took him. I tried to stop them. I tried." Alfred was choking back sobs.

It felt like the world had shattered, had ripped in half and all the color had been leeched away. This was worse than anything he could ever imagine, his worst nightmare.

"Who?" he managed to choke out. Robin was staring at him with wide eyes, face frozen in horror and shock.

"The Owlman. It was the Owlman."

All of the sudden, his mind caught up to what was happening. Damian was gone. Someone had taken him, and they didn't know who or where. While he was in charge. _While he was in charge._ It felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. He shoved Dick to the back of his mind, and focused solely on being Nightwing.

"Agent 1, what is your status?"

"I'm bleeding," Alfred admitted.

"How bad?"

"Shot. Twice."

God, not good. "Alright. First aid. Then contact the Bat. Get him in the loop ASAP. Robin and I will start looking. Is there _any_ indication to where they might have gone?"

"He smelled faintly of magnesium chloride. Start in the Energy District."

Praise Alfred's keen senses. "Alright. Got it. Check in when you've contacted the Bat."

Nightwing ended his communication and stared at his hands, heart thundering in his chest. _This can't be happening._

Robin let loose a feral scream and punched the wall beside him, crushing his fist against the muddy brick.

"No time for that, Robin. We have a job to do."

* * *

 

Panic gripped Dick's chest. It had been hours, _hours_ and there was still no leads on Damian. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Alfred had been patched up, and was organizing the search from the cave. Bruce had been contacted, but he was in deep space and wouldn't be on-planet for another couple hours. Alfred told him Bruce hadn't said much, but he was on his way, and brining a greater portion of the Justice League with him.

"Where is he?" Jason's voice was raspy with despair. "Where could he be?"

"I don't know, Robin. But we'll find him."

It was hard to say that with hopelessness weighing his heart, but he had to believe it. It was the only thing left.

The comms beeped and both Nightwing and Robin answered.

"What is it, Agent 1? Update?" It was pathetic how hopeful his voice sounded, even to him.

"Unfortunately, it's not your beloved butler. Tell him sorry about the shots. I was in a hurry. Was running an errand. You know how it is. Don't want the goods to spoil." Nightwing's heart was in his stomach. "Who are you? Where is he?"

"Say hello," the voice singsonged. Nightwing and Robin waited with baited breath, both dreading and desperate to hear that voice.

"I _said_ say hello."

The next noise obliterated any calmness Dick was pretending to feel. The sound of someone being hit. Of Damian _groaning_ in pain.

"Eh, good enough. Now,--"

"You touch him again, and _I'll rip your spine out,"_ he was snarling, growling like an animal but he didn’t care.

"Let's not make promises we can't keep, shall we? It won't bode well for the little one."

That shut Dick up quick. But not Damian. There was the sound of spitting, a muffled _ugh,_ and another sound Dick couldn't stand.

"I said don't you dare touch hi--"

"And _I_ said something important about promises, hm? Let's not rehash the whole thing. Moving on, I was trying to get ahold of dear old Bruce, not his two orphan sidekicks. Any way to get in touch?"

"You'll just have to talk to me," he said through gritted teeth.

"Well, that's not going so well now is it? Why don't you give me a ring when he's back in town, and we can talk about the caged bird."

"Damian, I'm coming for you. I'm on my way. _I'm com--"_

The line went dead and so did Dick's heart.

"Did you get that? The location? Where was the signal coming from?"

Jason looked up from where he was grimly typing code into the Batcomputer on his wrist. "I got it."

"Let's go."

* * *

 

"There's no point telling me to wait, B. We're already here. I've got to get him."

"Nightwing, I'm 45 minutes out. I'll be there."

"I'm going in, B. See you in 45." Dick clicked off his communicator. "You ready, Robin?"

Jason was tense, eyes burning. "Let's go get our brother."

They stormed the abandoned theater, searching the abandoned upper floors and made their way down to the basement.

"They're not _here!_ " Jason shouted in frustration.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

They whipped around to see a man with large, glinting eyes, and everything went black.

Dick's head throbbed as he regained consciousness, and he instantly knew he hadn't been out long. His hands were handcuffed to the pipes behind him. Jason was already awake and tugging viciously at the cuffs, straining his arms.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"

Dick's eyes snapped to that voice and hatred burned through his chest, until his heart caught in his throat at the sight before him.

Damian was slumped in a chair, one eye swollen shut. His mouth was bleeding, and his pajamas were filthy. Dick couldn't detect any other injuries, but the flannel jammies were long sleeved. His bare feet swung lifelessly off the ground, too short to even reach the ground.

A hatred like none he had ever felt before consumed him. Dick knew he was going to kill this man. Bruce be damned, _everything_ be damned.

"Dad?" Damian's bright eyes were unfocused and his voice weak and horse.

"It's me, Damian. It’s me, baby. I'm here. It's going to be okay."

"Lying to a child? Not very heroic?"

Damian flinched at the voice and Dick wished Bruce was there. He wished he had never gone on patrol. He wished he was never Nightwing and Damian was safe and protected and healthy. He wished they could switch places.

"Now the brat wouldn't tell me. Where is Bruce? It's not very polite to keep people waiting."

"Who are you?"

"His brother. Now, where is he?"

"His _brother?"_

Dick flinched when the Owlman's hand flashed out and struck Damian's face. He jerked, and blood splattered from his lips. Jason strained against the handcuffs, metal digging into his wrists, drawing blood.

"Lincoln March, at your service. Or Owlman. Whichever you prefer, really. Back to business. Now, _where is he?_ I don't think this one can handle much more interrogation."

"He's off-planet," Dick spat. "With the League."

"Fascinating. Really. Very interesting. Well, I already know everything else there is to know about Bruce, so you two are really useless to me now. I guess we can have some fun while we wait."

The Owlman stalked around Damian's chair and grabbed his arm. Panic overwhelmed Dick, hitting him with full force.

"No, please. Don't hurt him. I'll tell you anything. I'll do anything. Just don't hurt him."

"It has the potential to be an intriguing offer, but I'm really not interested." March started bending, twisting Damian's wrist, pulling it the wrong way. Damian started to squirm as the pain increased. Jason was pulling against the cuffs so hard his shoulder gave with a subtle pop, and slipped from his socket. His wrists were bleeding freely but he didn't stop pulling. Damian screamed as his wrist gave way with a sickening crunch as his bones broke in the Owlman's hands. Dick screamed with him.

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no…"

Everything that happened next was a blur, but Batman was there, crashing through the door, and Diana was breaking the cuffs, and the Owlman was laughing as he fought, but Dick only had eyes for the little boy. His brother.

He surged for the chair, and gathered Damian in his arms. He was limp, and not in the way a child is sleepily content in his arms, nestled in for warmth. He was a dead weight, his head lolling. Dick was crying, and one blue eye peeled open to look at him. His voice was weak and he sounded so small, so young.

"I want to go home."

Dick was choking on his sobs, his heart, his broken soul.

"Okay, baby bird. Okay. I got you. Let's go home."


	2. Broken Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked for a a sequel to Specter, in which Damian ends up being traumatized and unable to become Robin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, you guys love the angst. I wasn't planning on continuing this, but I guess you wanted it. It kinda made me sad: I just want all my Robins to be happy.
> 
> Sorry, this isn't the greatest chapter ever, but I think it fits the bill for your request. Let me know what you think.

“You ready?” Dick’s heart twisted at the sight before him. Damian Wayne stood proudly, hands on his hips, R glinting on his chest. He was Robin, the red, yellow and green were a telltale sign. Dick wasn’t ready for this, Damian was way too young, only 10 years old, but it was the only thing he could think of.

Ever since  _that_  night, Damian was changed. Smiles were either forced or bitter. Laughter was nonexistent or cold. And Damian had been obsessed with training himself and getting stronger ever since. He’d almost gone too far, almost killed himself with his rigorous training. The only solution that Dick could think of was allowing him to come on patrol as Robin. He would agree to cease the more extreme parts of his training, if he could learn from Batman. Dick had finally convinced Bruce that it was time. Damian would be Robin.

Dick knew that everything was his fault. If only he had protected his younger brother, he could have saved him that trauma. Although Damian survived Lincoln March, his innocence hadn’t. He was forever changed.

Damian shot Dick a murderous glare. “Of course I’m ready.”

Dick Grayson nodded in response, he had long since given up the mantle of Robin, and it had been passed down many times, but  _he_  wasn’t sure if he was ready to let this happen.

Bruce glided into the room, cowl firmly in place. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Their first stop was Commissioner Gordon. He had been surprised to see Nightwing, but his eyebrows nearly hit his hairline when he saw the young boy in the Robin suit. 

“Really, Batman? Doesn’t he seem a bit young?”

“Hm,” Bruce muttered, and Dick stepped in before Damian got in a fistfight with one of the only police officers who publicly supported Batman.

“He’s ready, Jim.”

Gordon nodded slowly, turning back to Bruce. He sighed, a tired sound. 

“Alright. We’ve got reports of heavy gang violence in Robbinsville. Most likely the Cosa Nostra. We’re thinking it’s the Cassamento’s this time. I’ve got intel that it’s an arms shipment.”

“Alright,” Batman nodded. “Send me the details. I’ll take care of it.”

Gordon turned to get his laptop, “Y’know Batman, these guys are dangerous. Maybe not a good first day for Robin, hm? Alright, I’ve got it right here.” He turned back to Batman to find that all three of them were already gone.

“God fucking dammit.”

* * *

Cape Carmine was absolutely packed with Cosa Nostra. Gordon hadn’t been wrong: the Cassamento’s were definitely involved, but so were most of the other major crime families affiliated with the Cosa Nostra. Dick whistled lowly when he saw them swarming a makeshift pier, unloading enough crates to arm the whole of Gotham. Damian watched silently, arms crossed and eyes narrow.

But this was so much bigger than he’d imagined. Dick glanced at Bruce nervously, shooting his eyes to Damian. He wasn’t sure a kid should have to deal with this, especially on his first day. 

Bruce shrugged. “Blackbat and Red Hood will be joining us tonight. We need to make sure these weapons stay off the streets.”

Damian nodded, as if Bruce were talking to him, but the words were for Dick. He knew his job would be to look after Damian while this all went down.

Bruce lifted a hand to his ear. “Alright. Everyone’s in position. Let’s go.”

Damian did surprisingly well considering that his first mission as Robin involved taking down a notorious gang alliance in a showdown that was dangerous enough for the Batman to call in backup. Dick kept his eye on Damian the whole time, taking a few punches to make sure that the kid stayed out of the worst of the fray. Jason was there, as was evident by the profanity and smell of gunpowder as he shot kneecaps and shoulders. Cassandra was a bit harder to spot, as she moved in the shadows, dispatching anyone in her way.

Damian had fought well. As the fight died down, they seemed to have cleared their area, and Dick put his hand on Damian’s shoulder. Pride swelled in his heart as he realized that this could be what Damian needed to stop his crazy training antics. Being Robin could help him. “Good job tonight, Robin.”

His shoulders were stiff and he was panting, but Dick didn’t think anything of it. He was breathing a little hard himself. But when Dick went to ruffle his hair–a familiar gesture to them both–Damian’s breathing hitched and he flinched.

Dick was instantly on alert. He knelt down in front of his brother, turning his shoulders to face him. “Robin? Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Damian’s eyes were wide behind the lenses of his domino, unfocused and wild. His body was so tense, it looked like he could snap his own bones. Dick’s heart sank.

“Damian, I need you to talk to me.” Dick said, abandoning protocol and using his name. No one was conscious to hear it, and Damian was having some sort of panic attack. He wouldn’t respond to a name he wasn’t familiar with.

“Take that you bag of dicks!” There was a gunshot and a grunt as a man fell to his knees, clutching his bloody leg. Jason stood behind him, helmet glinting as he holstered one of his guns. The other he kept firmly on the man kneeling in front of him. “Get it, Nightwing? A bag of  _dicks?”_

 _“Hood,”_ Dick hissed, grabbing Damian’s shoulders and trying to get him to focus on him, and not the carnage around them.

“Ooops, right. I forgot the squirt has sensitive hears. You really need to get over your mama bear syndr– _FUCK_!”

Everything that happened next, happened so quickly, Dick didn’t have much time to process it. The man Jason had shot had managed to get his hands on a gun, and had aimed it at Damian while Jason was talking. Dick shoved Damian back, and he stumbled, not saying anything. It wouldn’t have mattered if Jason hadn’t had the reflexes to grab the man’s arm in a hold and squeeze, causing him to drop the gun, and snapping the bone. The shot went wild, not anywhere close to Dick or Damian. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” Jason was blabbering, clearly shaken by the near miss. The man was on the floor, groaning.

Dick was about to explode with rage, when a scream tore his attention away from his prodigal brother.

Damian’s voice was ragged and torn and he sounded completely and absolutely broken. The sound was absolutely wretched and it broke Dick’s heart. He took a step forward to gather his baby brother in his arms and sooth him when a batarang zipped through the air. 

His immediate instinct was that Bruce had arrived. But as it sunk into the man’s head with a sickening crunch and he dropped to the floor, dead, Dick knew Bruce hadn’t thrown it.

It was Damian. 

For once in his life, Jason was too shocked to say anything, his ten year old brother had just  _killed_  a man. Dick turned back to Damian, and saw the panic in his eyes, the fear, the anger, the confusion. Dick reached his hands forward to catch his brother, but the silky yellow cape slipped through his fingers, and Damian was gone.

* * *

The next few hours were a frantic search for the errant Robin, and all of Batman’s associates were called to help. It was the largest collaboration that Dick had ever witnessed Bruce participate in outside of the Justice League.

But he couldn’t even marvel at the fact. He was gutted, hollow inside. He had failed Damian,  _again._ He hadn’t been ready for Robin, and now he’d killed a man and he was only ten, and who knows where he was now. Dick had already vomited once, but he could feel the bile rising in his throat. This was happening again. Damian was lost, again.

And everything was his fault.

Their coms beeped with a signal from the manor, and Bruce answered, broadcasting the message to everyone in the search party.

“Agent 1, status?”

“He was here,” Alfred gasped. He sounded winded and in pain, two unusual states for him. “He didn’t come through the Cave, he was in the Manor. He was trying to be avoided.”

Dick’s heart lifted. “So he’s there now? Is Robin safe?”

“No,” Alfred sounded unimaginably sad. “He’s gone.”

Dick was drowning. He couldn’t process this.  _Not again. Not again. Not again._

“Where?” Bruce demanded.

“He left a note. ‘I’ve gone to Mother.’ That’s all it says.”

The world shattered as Dick’s heart broke into irreparable pieces.

**Author's Note:**

> Come prompt me or talk to me at www.thegalacticpope.tumblr.com


End file.
